


I Don't Give A Damn About My Bad Reputation

by supersadface



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bad Boy!Richie, Cute Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Everyone's Alive Because I Said So, Idiots in Love, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-25 08:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21353152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersadface/pseuds/supersadface
Summary: Richie bumps into Eddie at a packed frat party, and the two strangers immediately hit it off. That is, until Eddie finds out that Richie has a reputation for being a total douchebag. Will that be a deal breaker for Eddie? Or will Richie be able to prove that he can be a good boyfriend, despite what people have been saying?A fic in which there will be many make-outs, cute dates, and dirty jokes (courtesy of one Richie Tozier), and in which Richie has a bit of an emo aesthetic because it's hot and I said so.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	I Don't Give A Damn About My Bad Reputation

**Author's Note:**

> CW for partying, drinking, etc. There are no drugs, and none of our main characters get very drunk at all, but if that kind of thing wigs you out, don't read! Okay enjoy xoxo!

Eddie's weaving through the throng of drunk college students at the semester’s biggest party, scanning the crowd for wherever Bev went, when his body collides with something solid and tall, knocking his drink to the sticky frat-house floor.

“Shit, I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you there.”

Eddie looks up and squints at the source of the voice, the shitty party lighting doing his vision no favors. Once his eyes finally focus, he can’t help but stare. The guy he bumped into towers over him, every part of his body thin and lanky. His big hands have black polish on the nails to match his all-black outfit: t-shirt, jeans, and worn sneakers. His black hair is everywhere, curling just below his pierced ears and framing his grinning face, and his huge, thick-lensed glasses take up most of his expression, detracting from his cool appearance in a way that’s extremely charming. In short, he’s hot. Like, smoking hot. Holy shit, is that a tattoo peeking out from under his shirt sleeve? Jesus Christ.

Hot guy doesn’t even seem to notice Eddie’s ogling.

“Although, how I could possibly have missed a face as pretty as yours is truly beyond me. What’s your name, cutie?”

Um. Words, Eddie. Use your words. Come on.

“U-uh. Edward?”

Try again, dude.

“B-but, everyone calls me Eddie,” he clarifies.

“Eddie,” hot guy repeats, grin widening. “Well, Eddie, why don’t you let me grab you another drink, since my dumb ass spilled yours?”

His drink? Eddie looks down at his empty hand, still positioned as if it’s holding a cup. Shit, that’s right, he dropped his drink. Yes. That’s what got him into this situation. Oh, that’s nice, Eddie, the hot man wants to get you a drink. Isn’t that sweet of him? Wait. You have rules about this. What are your rules? Shit.

“U-uh, I’m sorry man, but I don’t let strangers give me drinks unless I see where they came from. It’s, like, one of my rules. Ha ha,” he flounders, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Great, Eddie, an attractive boy offers to get you a drink, and you have to get weird on him. Why are you so cautious? Has anything bad_ really_ ever happened to someone who drank a strange drink? Don’t answer that.

The guy is undeterred. Thank God. “Oh, yeah, obviously, I probably sound like a fucking creep! My bad, dude. How about instead you come with me to the kitchen, and I’ll make you a drink myself? You can watch my every move, I swear.” He puts his hand to his chest, as if Eddie needs convincing.

“Y-yeah, that sounds great!” Jesus Eddie, over-eager much?

“I-I mean. Whatever. Cool, I guess.” Better. Sort of.

The guy leads him into the kitchen with a hand between his shoulder blades, the warmth seeping through the back of his shirt. It’s miraculously empty, and it’s much quieter than the rest of the packed house.

“Alright Eds, you sit down on the counter, and I’ll make us something delicious,” He promises, opening cupboards as he speaks and pulling out various alcohols and mixers.

“Do you live here?” Eddie wonders aloud.

“_God_ no. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not really frat material,” he laughs. “No, one of my best friends lives here, although if you’ve seen Bill, you know that he’s not really frat material, either. But hey, that’s what happens when you’ve got rich parents who want you to be more ‘involved’ in college life. Don’t feel too sorry for him though, he secretly loves it here - helps him meet all the guys. Too bad he missed you. Looks like his loss is my gain,” He turns around to wink at Eddie before returning to his raid of the cupboards.

“Anyways, I’m here all the time, meaning I know where all the _good_ stuff is hiding” he brags, busying himself with his work.

It’s weird. Usually Eddie’s the talkative one, talking everyone’s ears off at a mile a minute. But around this guy, he’s having trouble finding any words at all, let alone speaking them with any proficiency. He’s totally speechless. His friends would be so freaked.

“Do you even know how to mix drinks?” he blurts out.

“Oh, ye of little faith!” the guy exclaims with fake outrage, slamming a drink in front of Eddie and gesturing with one of his own. “Go ahead, try it. You tell _me_ whether I can mix a drink!”

Eddie’s a little disturbed at how little attention he payed while the man made his drink, considering that’s the reason he made it at all, but he figures since the guy _thought_ he was watching, that’s a good enough deterrent. Plus, the guy’s drinking some himself, so it’s probably not drugged. Eddie takes a sip, his eyebrows raised in skepticism, but he lets out a hum of appreciation once the liquid reaches his lips.

“Oh wow, yeah, that’s good. You can’t even taste the alcohol. I’m pretty sure I could get slammed on a few of these. Unless… is there even any booze in this?” Eddie narrows his eyes in suspicion.

The guy grins. “Oh yeah, a fuck-ton. This shit’ll put you under the table if you’re not careful. That’s why it’s one of my favorites,” he winks.

“Cheers!” the guy yells, clinking his glass against Eddie’s and taking a sip. “Oh, yeah, I’m a fucking genius.”

“Hey, uh, thanks for the drink…?” Eddie comes up short, having no idea what to call his new, hot friend.

The guy nearly spits out his drink, swallowing it quickly and setting down his glass. “Oh, shit! Jesus Tozier, get a fucking grip. Sorry, man! Richie! My name’s Richie,” he announces, putting his hand out for Eddie to shake, which he does. Richie’s polished fingers are warm and firm around Eddie’s, making him blush. When’s the last time he shook hands with such a handsome stranger? Probably never. But doesn’t that name sound familiar? Richie Tozier… he could swear he’s heard it before. Huh.

Him and Richie sit in the kitchen for a while, chatting while they finish off their drinks. Eddie’s pleasantly tipsy, enough that he’s warm and comfortable but still fully in control of his actions - the sweet-spot of drunkenness, as far as he’s concerned. The awkwardness from earlier is long-gone, and he’s been laughing with Richie in the kitchen for at least an hour. He’s learned quite a few things about his newest crush. Richie’s a performing arts major at their college, with plans to be a stand-up comedian someday. He hates that they make him perform “Shakespeare and shit”, but he figures the degree will look good on a resume, and he knows that the plays they put him in are good practice for the shows he’ll be doing in the future. He tells Eddie he needs to come to his next show, to which he agrees. He also finds out that they’re both juniors, although Richie’s six months or so older than him. Damn, an older man. Look at you, Eddie. Eddie even shares some of his own backstory - over-bearing mother, germaphobic tendencies, the whole nine-yards - exchanging info with Richie until they run out of things to talk about.

Sitting on the counter, Eddie’s just about as tall as Richie is, and the latter has been getting progressively farther into his space as time wears on, until he’s got his hands resting on the counter on either side of Eddie, leaning so that their heads are only a foot or so apart. It’s from this position that Richie makes his next request.

“Hey, do you wanna go dance?”

Eddie cringes. He can’t dance to save his fucking life. He tells the other man as much.

“I can’t dance to save my fucking life.”

Richie snorts. “You think any of these assholes will notice? Everyone else at this party is drunk out of their fucking minds! You could strip naked and do the worm, and I don’t think anyone would bat an eye. Hell, I wouldn’t be opposed,” he teases.

Of course he’s right, but he’s missing one key detail: Richie’s not that drunk, and he’s sure to notice his complete lack of grace.

“Um…” Eddie hesitates, blushing in embarrassment.

“Come on, you think I can fucking dance? Let’s go, I promise not to laugh at you.”

“_Yeah right…_” Eddie thinks as Richie pulls him from the counter by the hand, tugging him into the living room to dance.

Well, if dancing gets Richie to hold his hand, it might not be _completely_ intolerable.

Once they get to the dancefloor, Richie drops his hand and starts swaying in time to the loud pop music; Eddie, on the other hand, stands there awkwardly, stiff as a board.

Richie laughs. “C’mon, Eds, move a little, I won’t bite!”

“I thought you weren’t gonna laugh at me,” Eddie pouts.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, but to be fair I said that I wouldn’t laugh at your _dancing_, and you weren’t really doing much of that,” he teases.

Eddie doesn’t think that’s what was said, but he caves anyways.

“_Fine,_” he mutters, reluctantly swinging his hips to the music.

“See, there you go! Now, if you could just stop grimacing while you do it, you’d almost be dancing!” Richie grins, pinching Eddie’s frowning cheek.

At that he can’t help but smile, and before he knows it he’s kind of having fun. Him and Richie, much like before, gravitate toward each other as the songs pass. At first, they just shuffle together until they could _almost_ be said to be dancing, but soon Richie has his hands on Eddie’s hips as they move to the music. The gentle pressure of Richie’s touch has him warm all over, blushing like a schoolgirl; he just hopes it’s too dark for him to notice. Without noticing it they’re soon chest-to-chest, and he’s finding it a little difficult to breath. Richie’s whispering jokes in his ear, and they keep laughing, totally in their own moment.

That is, until Eddie catches Bev’s eye across the dance floor, and he remembers he’s here with people. Shit. She gives him her best ‘what the everliving fuck’ look, gesturing wildly with her hands at the man holding onto him, and Eddie can’t do much other than nod, trying to indicate that he’s okay. He doesn’t blame her for her concern; he’s never done anything like this at a party before. Richie notices their silent conversation after a few seconds of Eddie trying to communicate via eyebrow movements, and he delivers Bev a grinning thumbs-up before bringing that hand back down to squeeze Eddie’s ass - both his _and_ Bev’s eyeballs pop out of their skulls.

“_Richie!_” He yelps in surprise, turning his eyes quickly back to his dance partner.

Richie quickly returns his hand back to its place on Eddie’s hip, giving him a chagrined smile.

“Sorry Eds, I didn’t mean to take it too far. I was just trying to joke around with your friend; I’ll behave myself, I swear.”

Eddie’s impressed by how respectful Richie is of his boundaries. Obviously, that should be a very low bar to pass, but these days it’s not, especially in strangers at a frat party. It makes Eddie like him even more, seeing how scared he is of violating his trust.

“No, no, dude, you didn’t take it too far, you just caught me off guard is all,” he assures him, blushing deeply.

A wicked grin comes over Richie’s face. “Not too, far, eh? So you wouldn’t mind taking things a little _farther_?”

Eddie’s brain short-circuits. “Uhhhhh…what exactly did you have in mind?”

Richie’s grin shifts to a seductive smile, leaning forward. “Something like this?”

He keeps leaning forward until their faces are mere inches apart.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, looking from Eddie’s lips to his eyes and back again several times, his smug energy tapered off into flirty sweetness.

Eddie doesn’t even have the fucking _words_, man. He just nods helplessly. After waiting one more second so that Eddie has a chance to back out, Richie presses their lips together in a gentle kiss. That one kiss turns to two, which turns to five, becoming progressively less gentle. One of Richie’s hands moves from Eddie’s hip to the side of his face, caressing his cheek, while the other slides to his lower back, pulling him even closer. Eddie, completely unaccustomed to bruising kisses like these, flounders with his hands helplessly, clutching at Richie’s shirt for a few moments before inspiration strikes and he buries them into his thick curls. Richie bites at Eddie’s lips, drawing a breathy moan from his lungs, which makes Richie squeeze him even tighter, the urgent kisses kicking up in tempo.

When Richie drags his tongue slowly across Eddie’s bottom lip, asking permission, Eddie pulls away, panting. Richie moves back, his one hand starting to rub soothing circles in the small of Eddie’s back, the other moving to brush his sweaty brown hair from his forehead.

“I’m sorry, did I take it too far again?” His brow furrows in worry, and Eddie has to resist the urge to kiss it flat.

“No, no, you’re okay; it was wonderful. I just-” Eddie pauses in embarrassment before pushing forward with his sentence. Liquid courage, and all that.

“I . . . sort of, maybe . . . haven’t kissed a whole lot of people, so I . . . can’t really handle a kiss like that without a . . . chance to catch my breath. Sorry.” He wishes he could blame his asthma, but he knows it’s not his lung capacity that leaves him breathless. Holy shit.

Richie must feel his cheeks warm under his hand, but he blissfully neglects to comment. “Aw, sugar, don’t be sorry. I might have gotten a little carried away,” he laughs, pulling his hand from Eddie’s face to rub the back of his neck.

“It’s just _Jesus_, you’re gorgeous. _Fuck_. I could make-out with you all night, if you’d let me.”

Nobody’s ever said anything like that to Eddie in his _life_. He might just die on the spot. Can excess horniness cause a heart attack? He’s about to find out.

“Aw c’mon, that’s not true,” Eddie laughs, trying to diffuse the butterflies in his gut.

Richie pulls an expression like he’s been slapped. “Like _hell_ it’s not! Are you kidding me? When’s the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror, man? You’re beautiful,” Richie scoffs. “I’ve got half a mind to kiss the life outta you, _fuck_.”

Eddie runs his hand through his hair and licks his lips, smiling sheepishly. “Well, I wouldn’t want to, you know, deprive you of-”

Richie’s already pressing their mouths together with a grin before he can finish his sentence, sucking Eddie’s bottom lip into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth. _Christ_. This time Richie doesn’t wait around long before pressing his tongue to the seam between Eddie’s lips, begging for access. Eddie lets him, a desperate whine tearing up his vocal cords as he opens his mouth, Richie’s velvety tongue sweeping inside and tangling with his own. _Fuck_. It’s a very good thing the music at this thing is so loud, or else everyone in the building would know how absolutely wrecked he is just _kissing_ this guy.

To be fair, Richie isn’t doing much better. He’s strategically keeping his pelvis a safe distance from Eddie’s, and his arms are wrapped in a crushing vice around his ribs, like he can’t stand for any unnecessary space to get between them (except for his conspicuous boner space, of course). These kisses are even better than the last ones, and Eddie thinks he just might let Richie kiss him all night long like he said he would. His thoughts are a hazy mix of _Richie, Richie, Richie_, with some _fuck shit Jesus Christ_ thrown in for good measure. He’s almost positive he’s lost his ability to form coherent thought altogether, until one sneaks up on him unbidden.

He pulls his face back from their lip-lock, Richie seeming intent to follow, chasing his mouth with his own and whining a little in the back of his throat, but Eddie keeps leaning back until Richie’s forced to open his eyes and scrunch his brows in confusion.

“Wait a minute, I remember where I know your name from now! Are you the same Richie Tozier everyone says is a total douchebag player?” Just his fucking luck. Great job Eddie, you nabbed an asshole. But he doesn’t really _seem_ like much of an asshole, does he?

Richie leans back, running a hand through his hair and huffing out a breath. “Okay, yeah maybe, but-”

“Oh this is just perfect, of _course_ you are,” Eddie mutters, starting to disentangle himself from their embrace, a cloud moving over his expression.

“No, wait, you didn’t let me finish!” Richie cries, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and pulling him back. “_Fuck_, okay, okay. Yes. I have a reputation. But it’s really not what you think, okay? So yeah, I get around. What can I say, I like casual sex. But that’s not a crime, you know? And I’m always very upfront with the guys if that’s what I’m looking for, but sometimes they just don’t get the message. They try to stick around, sleep in my bed, take me out to breakfast the next morning, the whole shebang. Which I’m not saying I’m against at all! But when all I’m looking for is a quick fuck, and I tell people that, I don’t want them to hang around trying to be my boyfriend, you know? But inevitably guys _do_, and then _I’m_ the asshole who broke their hearts, kicked them out of bed the next morning, etcetera etcetera. Word spreads, I get a bad rep, you know the rest.”

Richie rants a mile a minute, mussing up his hair in agitation as he does. And, okay, maybe Eddie believes him because he’s a total sucker for a hot guy with a sob story, but this explanation only provides more problems.

“So are you telling me that all you’re looking for is a quick fuck? That you’ve been flirting with me all night, telling me how pretty I am and making me laugh, so you could get into my pants?”

Eddie almost wants to cry. He’s embarrassed, heat flooding his cheeks and dread coiling in his stomach. Of course that’s all Richie wanted. Of course. He was stupid to expect anything else.

Richie’s eyes go wide. “What? No! Of course not! Jesus Eds, what kinda guy do you take me for? No, I really like you, okay? From the second I bumped into you, I knew I wanted to, like, actually date you and shit. It’s not like I’m incapable of turning on the charm and being sweet to a guy I really wanna try and go out with, I just haven’t been looking for that kinda thing lately - no one’s caught my eye like that until now, I guess.” He shrugs, like it’s simple, but the words he’s saying are making no sense.

Richie, who usually is just looking for a good time with a hot guy, is _into_ Eddie? Like, wants to date him, into him? All the guys on this campus, many of whom Richie’s slept with, and he wants _him_? That’s...crazy.

“Bullshit.”

“Huh?”

“I said _bullshit_. You’ve run around with all the hottest guys at this school, and you’re telling me that I caught your eye a way none of them have? How stupid do you think I am?”

Richie’s mouth is hanging wide open. “Eds, I’m not- okay, no. First of all, you’re treating this like it’s a competition of looks, which it’s not. I like you because even in the past couple of hours you’ve been funnier, more interesting, and more fun to talk to than everyone else on this campus combined. That’s why I wanna date you. But also, assuming this _was_ a judgement of looks, you’d still fucking win, idiot. I don’t know who told you you’re ugly, dude, but they straight up lied to you. I’ve got no clue how to convince you of that, but I’ll spend as long as you’ll let me trying to. I _like_ you, dumb ass. I want to take you on a date, hold your hand and shit. The whole nine yards.”

Eddie’s head hurts. Can he trust him? He’s heard pretty much all over campus about Richie and his trail of broken hearts, but he’s been _so sweet_ to Eddie all night. Isn’t that evidence enough? Was he this nice to all his conquests? Ugh, why is he such a sucker for sad eyes? God damn it. Fuck, he’s an idiot. Oh well, he’s in it now.

“So you’re trying to tell me that _this_ is how you treat the guys you actually want to stick around?” Eddie teases. 

Richie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a second it seems like he’s trying to figure out if he should be offended or not. Then a grin slowly spreads across his face.

“Oh yeah, my usual act is _much_ sleazier than this one. It usually starts with a cheesy pick-up line and ends with my hand down your pants - super classy.”

Eddie laughs, the tension from the earlier conversation bleeding away. Sure, maybe Richie’s got a bad reputation, but that shouldn’t stop Eddie from giving him a shot. Isn’t it kinda like slutshaming if he assumes just because Richie likes sex he can’t hold down a relationship? It’s 2019, Eddie. Come on.

He’s still laughing at Richie’s joke when his eyes catch a clock on the wall and he freezes. “Shit, is that time right? I’ve gotta go,” He twists toward the door instinctively, although Richie’s arms still looped around his waist keep him from going far. Mike said he didn’t wanna be out late tonight, and it’s nearly 12 o’clock in the morning. Fuck!

“Hey, whoa whoa, slow down, where’s the fire?”

“Sorry, dude, I didn’t realize what time it was, my friends have probably been waiting on me,” he apologizes, squirming out of the other man’s grip.

“Hey, hey, before you run off, why don’t you let me give you a little something to remember me by?” Richie smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Eddie turns back toward Richie, confusion written all over his face. That is until Richie leans down and attaches his lips to Eddies neck. _Oh_. He tries to stay as still as possible for Richie, totally unaccustomed to situations like this. Not for the first time he wonders what the fuck he’s supposed to do with his hands. By the time Richie pulls back with a soft pop of his lips and licks the sore spot gently, Eddie can tell by the throbbing in his neck that he’s got a sizeable hickey there.

“There! Now you won’t forget me,” Richie grins triumphantly, stroking his thumb over the mark he made.

Blushing deeply, Eddie goes to make his escape again. Still, Richie won’t quite let him go.

“Wait! So, are you gonna let me take you out on a date, or what?”

Eddie thinks for a second. “Okay. I’ll let you take me on _a_ date. One. Singular. And if it goes well...we’ll see,” he relents.

Richie grins. “You’d better get ready to be spoiled, baby, because I’m going to absolutely _shower_ you in affection,” he wags his eyebrows.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie pulls away, only to be stopped again.

“Dude, I’m gonna need your number. You know. To plan our date?” It’s cute, he almost seems nervous to ask.

Smirking, Eddie pulls a pen out of his pocket and writes his number on Richie’s forearm, holding onto his wrist to keep it still while Richie giggles.

“There. You’d better put it in your phone fast, loverboy, because it’s _pretty_ humid in here, and that ink isn’t gonna last long.”

With a parting smug look at Richie’s panicked expression, Eddie finally pulls out of his grasp and weaves through the crowd to find his friends.

**Author's Note:**

> What will happen next? Well I kind of told you, but you'll just have to come back and find out all the cute shit these boys get into. Spoiler alert: it's pretty fucking cute.  
Thanks so much for reading! Please leave me comments, kudos, etc. and let me know whether you like it! Alternatively, bookmark/subscribe to stay up-to-date on my updates! This is hopefully going to be a multi-chapter work! And if you wanna chat or just see who I am and what I'm about, you can find me: @Jeff_the_Slender on Instagram, @jefftheslender on Tumblr, @Jefftheslender on Twitter, and, of course, here on Ao3! I love you!


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